This week, a good friend moved across the country and another good friend told me she intends to move across the state—by the end of this week. Yesterday, my eleven-year old fell down a flight of stairs at school, and ended up in the emergency room. She escaped with only some deep bruising and bad scrapes—mostly to her face, poor kid—but I ended up checking on her throughout the night, anyway, because what is a clear CAT scan, compare to a mother’s paranoia?
So what with one thing and another, I desperately needed something to smile about. This stuff did the trick.
If you have any smile tricks or tips of your own, please share them in the comments!
Frostbeard makes nerdvana (or geektastic, your choice) -scented soy candles and sells them on etsy.
The one above smells like driftwood, black currant tea, and hint of juniper.
The one below smells like timber, driftwood, hazelnut cappuccino, and a hint of leather:
Other offerings include
Sherlock Study (sweet pipe tobacco, cherry wood and fresh rain),
Dumbledore’s Office (cedarwood vanilla, fireplace and lemon),
The Shire (oakmoss, clover, aloe, with a hint of sweet cherry pipe tobacco),
This one, features oakmoss, amber, sandalwood, with hints of tobacco and leather.
A customer thought it smelled like a “Freshly showered Sherlock Holmes”,
which might be of interest to anyone who might be thinking of sending their favorite librarian/blogger/me a little something during the upcoming gift giving season.
Karen Alpert, blogger of the hilarious and superlatively blunt Baby Sideburns
and author of I Heart My Little A-Holes (a bunch of holy crap moments no one ever told you about parenting),
knows the angst of wanting to provide our beloved children with artistic lunches that will impress the Hermes hosiery off all the other parents
feed their bodies and imaginations, like this:
When our own talents with food art are pretty much limited to this:
For Fry and Laurie, though—and darling Jeeves—I can ignore Dog MacIntosh.
This is a real song, by the way, composed and written by Leslie Sarony in or around 1927.
The 1927 arrangement for ukelele and banjo (what else?) and slightly inebriated singer (one infers) can be found here.
Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s acquired during the week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as actually sitting down and creating real content.
David Mitchell is one of the many British comedian/professional panelists I’ve added to my list of braincrushes this past year.
His rants, while sometimes digressive* and usually nitpicky, are always full of delightfully irritated snark.
And I’m sure you agree that his voice is perfect for them.**
An editor of a state historical society press called the library the other day to ask about a few local images her authors might want to use for a cover.
We talked policies and procedures—and fees—and then she mentioned that one of the articles on our departmental website was very well-written, and had just the information she needed to get a brief historical overview of the events that are explored in the manuscript.
It was one of mine. And the article is going to be cited in the book.
Stephen Fry is many, many wondrous things, but unflappable isn’t really one of them, especially when someone repeatedly doesn’t get it on Q.I.***
Here he is debating spelling rules with a panel of comedians, experts and some young actor who looks vaguely familiar and seems like he might know something about spelling (Hey-O!):
And now I’m confused . . . thank heavens for spellcheck, or the title of this section would have been all wrong.
oooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooo Literary Body Art
Found a book in the library on Monday when I was looking for something else, which is usually when the magic happens:
Click to see the book trailer, which is a hoot, if slightly NSFW
I’ve been thinking about a tattoo for several years now and while I finally have a solid idea in mind, it’s a bit . . . elaborate for a first timer.^ But a phrase or line from a favorite poem or book might be just the thing to start with—but which one?
I’m just a smidge spoiled for choice . . .
I checked out the website that started it all, where I lost a considerable about of time and gained far too many ideas to count, including the one to the left, which I’ve bookmarked for later.
So I asked around.
Cha Cha and I ended up having a favorite quotation contest over a game of Words with Friends, during which we agreed that “Not all those who wonder are lost“, which is technically a misspelling, still works.
I asked Grace what she would do. She thought about it and said she liked the idea of using the MARC^^ Coding for cataloguer (082 04 $a 025.32092 $2 23 ^^^) but wasn’t sure where to put it. I suggested her spine, since she doesn’t have a title page, but she said on a spine she would have to use a book label instead, which was just a tad whimsical for her.
My husband suggested, “She who controls the spice controls the universe!” accompanied by an image of a small bottle of diet Pepsi.
I turned to books. Terry Pratchett’s DiscWorld series provides a lot of great quotes about books and the way large collections of them bend time and space. L-Space (short for Library-Space) very simply put, links every library in the Universe, which means a trained Librarian can, with a little effort and a certain amount of risk, put hands on literally any book he or she needs, even if it’s in a small bookshop in Orion’s Belt. The Three Rules for Traveling Through L-Space might be handy to keep close for emergencies:
Books must be returned by the last date stamped
Do not interfere with the nature of causality
Then again, The Hobbit has some great one-liners that can be easily explained without a degree in inter-dimensional physics:
“There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something”
“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”
“Never Laugh at Live Dragons.”
“He took to writing poetry and visiting the elves; and though many shook their heads and touched their foreheads . . . and though few believed any of his tales, he remained very happy to the end of his days, and those were extraordinarily long.”
Though if I go that far, I might as well go ahead and add Librarian Smaug. And there are too many books that I love as much as Pratchett’s stuff and The Hobbit—while I do have ample canvas, where would it end? °
A simple “Like this.” on my wrist in honor of my beloved Rumi? Or, “I wandered freely as a cloud” or something by Dorothy Parker . . . or Chaucer . . . or Dante . . . or anybody but Thomas Hardy.
Not helping. At all
Louisa May Alcott provided one solution that fit better than anything I’d previously found:
“She is too fond of books, and it has turned her brain.”
But then it hit me, the word that describes me and encompasses every one of my literary loves and the repetitive explanation of which probably won’t irritate the bejesus out of me.
Now all I need to do is choose a script . . .
*He has a way of latching onto very small things that aren’t entirely the point and running with them until dragged forcibly back to the subject at hand. Which, come to think, is what footnotes are for . . .
**He also has lovely eyes and should always wear dark red or other dark jewel tones to set off his coloring, though I have no idea why I’m giving fashion advice to a man I’ve never met and probably never will meet, though those are the kinds of people I should give fashion advice to—if I did, which I don’t, normally—as they can’t give my ensemble the once over and smirk in a pot-kettle way. Speaking of digressions.